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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23765308">No Way in Hell</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dubious Consent, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kink Meme, basically neither of our main characters is a Bad Guy, but things are not completely on the up and up, there's no actual smut smut but it's somewhere in that zone</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:08:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,150</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23765308</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>From the 2020 kinkmeme: Murphy is a bartender &amp; catches a guy slipping drugs into a drink but Emori drinks it before he can stop her. She's a stranger but he wants to make sure she gets home safely. He uses her license for her address but she's all over him in the cab even though he's trying to resist.</p><p>aka the memori version of a kinkmeme prompt that absolutely no one asked for</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Emori/John Murphy (The 100)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>The 100 Kinkmeme Round 2020, anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>No Way in Hell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/easilydistractedbyfanfic/pseuds/easilydistractedbyfanfic">easilydistractedbyfanfic</a> for the kinkmeme prompt! She meant for it to be murven, but I sort of went a different direction in my middle-of-the-night last minute frenzy to write something for the kinkmeme back in January. You should definitely go check her out. She ended up filling the original prompt herself, and she has a ton of other really cool works too.</p><p>I didn't post this the ao3 until now because I didn't know how it would come across or how I feel about it, but what the hell. It's written anyway it might as well be on here!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Murphy saw her from across the bar, a cup of beer in hand and grinding her ass against some jagoff on the dance floor. She was unlike anyone else in the bar. Dressed conservatively, with shades of grey fabric covering almost every inch of her skin. She was somehow so intense, even as she tipped her head back in glee and raised her half-empty cup in the air. Maybe it was the tattoo that curved around her left eye, or the way her corset pulled her stomach in tight. But Murphy thought it was something deeper than that. There was just something special about that girl.</p><p>He didn’t have much time to ponder over it. It was Saturday night, and the bar was filled to the brim. Murphy rushed around the crowded bar, every inch crowded with university students clambering to get a drink. His job really sucked sometimes. Most of the time they didn’t even bother tipping.</p><p>His eyes kept on being pulled back to the girl on the dance floor. She was absolutely captivating, he couldn’t help himself from watching her. Her cup was empty now, and the guy she was dancing on grabbed it from her and sauntered over to Murphy at the bar.</p><p>The guy slammed the empty cup and five dollars cash on the bar. “Double vodka soda.” <em>Perfect change. Asshole.</em></p><p>“Yep.” Murphy poured the drink and slid it back over without further comment.</p><p>There was no thank you. The guy grabbed the cup and turned back to the dance floor. Murphy went to serve the next customer, but he saw it out of the corner of his eye: the guy slipped a tiny bottle in his pocket.</p><p>He didn’t register it at first. There were too many people, too many drinks to pour. It was a couple customers later that he realized it. <em>Fuck</em>. He had just watched the guy drug a girl and he didn’t even realize it.</p><p>The second he did, Murphy dropped what he was doing to rush out from behind the bar. He didn’t know what he was going to do. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Shouldn’t this have been part of bartender training?</p><p>He reached into the guy’s pocket and pulled the little bottle out. It was nearly empty, with a little clear liquid at the bottom. He held it up into the guy’s face, a few inches above his own. “What the <em>fuck</em> is this, huh?!”</p><p>Panic set in across the guy’s face. “It’s- uh-”</p><p>Murphy pulled the bottle back and put it in his own pocket. “Not good enough.” He was seeing red. Without thinking, his hand closed in a fist and his knuckles connected with the guy’s face, knocking him down.</p><p>“What the fuck, man!” the guy sputtered, a little blood coming out of his mouth.</p><p>The girl looked around, confused. “What’s going on?” Her cup was almost completely empty, though Murphy couldn’t know if she had already drank it or if it had sloshed out onto the floor.</p><p>Murphy took her by the arm and led her over to a corner of the bar, where it was a little quieter. “I think you’ve been drugged. Where are your friends?”</p><p>She shook her head, wobbling a bit on her feet. “My brother left. I’m alone.”</p><p>Great. That was just great. “Okay, okay. What’s your name?”</p><p>“My name’s E- name’s Emori.”</p><p>“Emori, right?”</p><p>She nodded.</p><p>“Okay, Emori, I’m gonna help you out. Can I call you an Uber?”</p><p>Another nod. She was swaying to the music, brushing off the gravity of the situation.</p><p>There was an angry yell from behind him. “Hey! John!”</p><p>He spun around to see his boss, Jaha.</p><p>“What do you think you’re doing, punching a guy in my bar? This-”</p><p>“I can explain, I can explain!” Murphy tried to keep his voice calm. “He was-”</p><p>“-I don’t care, John. This isn’t fight club. Not cool. Get out of here.” Jaha shook his head. “We’ll talk tomorrow.” He handed him his jacket and pushed him toward the door.</p><p>Emori stumbled after Murphy. “John. John. Nice meet you!” She hung onto his arm and giggled to herself over her own punchline-less joke. They passed the bouncer and got out into the chilly air outside. Murphy helped her to loop her arms in his jacket, and they leaned against the brick of the building outside.</p><p>Murphy pulled out his phone and fumbled with it until he opened the Uber app. “What’s your address?”</p><p>“I dunno.”</p><p>“You-you don’t know where you live?” Un-fucking-believable.</p><p>She shook her head. “I live apartment. My apartment.” Well that was just <em>super</em> helpful. Half the people in the city lived in apartments.</p><p>Murphy pressed his lips together. “Let me think… Um, okay Emori, can I see your phone?”</p><p>“Yeah, John.” She giggled again, reaching into her pocket to pull out a phone.</p><p>Murphy helped her to press her thumb to the sensor to unlock the phone. She leaned her head against him as he scrolled through the phone, looking for some kind of clue as to where she lived. He opened the maps app. <em>Jackpot</em>. Emori had a ‘home’ saved on the app, and it was just a seven minute drive away.</p><p>“You live on Willow Street, yeah?”</p><p>She nodded into his chest. His heart pounded at the feeling of having her so close. Emori was exquisite. If it were any other night, if she weren’t so intoxicated, he’d be trying to take her home with him to drive her straight to paradise.</p><p>“Perfect.” Murphy typed the address in his Uber app. “Okay, a car will be here soon. You’re gonna get home safe.”</p><p>“Then you’re gon- gonna fuck me, right?” Her eyes fluttered up to him.</p><p>Part of him wanted to say yes. She was so divine, so delectable, so exactly everything he’d ever wanted. But she wasn’t in her right mind. “<em>No</em>, that’s not what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna get some water and then you’re gonna go to bed, Emori.”</p><p>She pouted. “But I wan’ cock, John. Please, I wan’ it.”</p><p>Murphy couldn’t help the groan that escaped him at that. “No. You’re drunk. And high, probably. You’re in no mind to be doing anything like that. It’s been a long night, aren’t you tired?”</p><p>Emori shook her head. “Nah, I feel good. So good. But I’d feel gooder-” She giggled. “-<em>better</em>, if you’d fuck me.”</p><p>Murphy hummed, trying to ignore how tempting she smelled pressed up against him and how much he wanted to devour her. He slipped her phone back into her pocket.</p><p>A car rolled up in front of the bar. The driver rolled the window down. “Murphy?”</p><p>“Yep, that’s us. Thank you.” Murphy opened the door to the back seat and helped Emori inside. She slouched back onto the seat and looked back up at him, eyes foggy and hair all messed up. There was no way he could trust her to get home safe if he didn’t go with her. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something bad happened to her because he sent her off alone. Murphy patted her hip, and she scooted farther into the car so he could get in behind her. He grabbed her seatbelt and fastened it around her before doing his own.</p><p>The car pulled away from the curb and took off for Emori’s apartment. She slumped into Murphy’s side. It was dark in the car. The only light that was let in was from street lights and headlights. But when he looked down at her, he could see how wide her eyes were, how blown her pupils were as she stared at him.</p><p>“What?” he asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”</p><p>“So pretty,” she said, reaching up to stroke her knuckle on his jaw.</p><p>“You’re pretty too, you know. Like no one I’ve ever seen before.”</p><p>Emori grinned widely. “Yeah? How pretty?” She let her hand slip from his jaw down to his thigh.</p><p>This was a dangerous game, but Murphy was too twisted to put a stop to it. “You know how pretty.”</p><p>“Hmm.” She squeezed his thigh and dragged her fingers just a little bit higher, dangerously close to his cock. Murphy hoped she couldn’t feel the way it was tightening in his jeans, but judging from the way she was grinning at him, that didn’t seem likely. “Pretty enough to fuck me?”</p><p><em>Oh, right, he was supposed to be trying to stop this</em>. Murphy lay his hand on hers and brought it over to her own lap. “That’s not happening.”</p><p>She whined, wiggling her hips. “So wet. So wet, just for you. Feel.” Emori used her other hand, a gloved one he hadn’t noticed before, to take his hand that was restraining hers down to cup her pussy. Through the fabric of her pants he couldn’t feel much, but with the way she pressed his hand harder into her and ground against it, he couldn’t imagine she was anything but drenched.</p><p>Murphy gave in, just a little, and let himself rub his fingers at her. He could feel her squishy folds through her pants. She moaned, throwing her head back and screwing her eyes shut in pleasure.</p><p>“Yesssssss,” she hissed. Emori lifted her hand to grab at the buckle on her pants.</p><p>It was intoxicating, how much she wanted him. Murphy wanted to revel in it, to give in to everything she wanted. To make her come again and again then bend her over a table and fuck her from behind. To grab onto her hair and tilt her head so he could see the way her face twisted in ecstasy as he made her scream for him. He wanted it more than anything.</p><p>But it couldn’t be. Emori was out of her mind. Murphy might have been a shit person, but he wasn’t a rapist. As much as he ached for her, he had to stop himself.</p><p>“Emori, no.” He lifted his hand from where it was groping her sex to clutch at her hand on her buckle, stilling its movements.</p><p>“Please? Need it.” Her eyes flitted open to meet his again. She looked crazed, obscene, so desperate for his hands on her, his cock in her. She was so delicious, laid out for him like this. Even if she was drugged up and in the backseat of an Uber. He took his hand back from her, and it might have been the most difficult thing he had ever done in his life.</p><p>Emori lay her head back on his shoulder with a sigh. “You don’ think I’m pretty?”</p><p>He shook his head. “That’s not it at all.”</p><p>She nosed at his neck. “Then fuck me, John. I wan’, you wan’.” She palmed him through his jeans. “Smell so good. So hard for me. Feel so good in me.”</p><p>Murphy was at his breaking point. She was insatiable, wouldn’t take no for an answer. The worst part was, he didn’t want to say no. He wanted to say yes, a million times yes, and every time she asked him his resolve grew thinner until he was ready to break.</p><p>But before he could, the Uber was pulling over to the curb. Murphy unbuckled their seatbelts, thanked the driver, and led Emori out of the car and onto the sidewalk.</p><p>He was hoping the cool air would help to calm his desire, but he had no such luck. She was disheveled, leaning against him for support as she struggled to stand on her own. Her hair was somehow even messier than it was when they got into the car. Her eyeliner was smeared and his jacket looked enticingly oversized on her smaller frame. Murphy wanted to pull her in, to claim her mouth under his and taste her moans and drag her inside to fuck her all night long.</p><p>He shook his head to get his mind out of his filthy fantasies. “You have your keys, Emori?”</p><p>She reached into her shirt and unclipped a little keyring from her bra strap, two gold keys hanging from it. She handed it to him.</p><p>“Good girl.” He led her inside. He had to try both keys at the door to the building, playing with it until it opened. Emori was too far gone to be of any help.</p><p>“Okay, now, you’re gonna have to help me out here. Which apartment is yours?” He prayed she’d be able to get to the right one.</p><p>Emori started for the stairs, and he helped her—more like dragged her, really—up to the second floor. There were four doors on the floor, and she paused at the third one.</p><p>“Number 207? That’s the one, yeah?”</p><p>“Mmhmm,” she singsonged, still leaning against him. “Home sweet home.”</p><p><em>Thank god</em>. Murphy switched to the other key from the one he had used at the building door. It only took a moment until it yielded for him and he was pulling Emori into her apartment.</p><p>“Emori?” A voice sounded from inside. “You’re home early.”</p><p>“Raven!” Emori was breathless against him. Murphy brought her farther into the room, until he saw another girl on the couch. She was huddled over a laptop with a notebook laid on top of it, pen in hand.</p><p>Raven’s eyebrows shot up when she saw them. “Well <em>this</em> is unlike you. What’s going on?”</p><p>“He gon’ fuck me, feel so good.”</p><p>Raven narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me?”</p><p>He let out an exasperated sigh. “Hi, I’m Murphy. As much as Emori might think it, that’s actually not the plan for tonight. I’m a bartender, saw some guy drugging her drink. Couldn’t stop him before he got to her. She’s pretty out of it.”</p><p>“Oh, babe…” Raven pushed her laptop onto the side table and rushed over to Emori. “Come on, let’s get her to sit down.”</p><p>They dragged her over to the couch, and Raven sat down with her. Murphy went to the kitchen and opened cupboards until he found their cups, and poured Emori a water from the faucet. He brought it back to her.</p><p>Raven had a plan. “I’m gonna call 911. If she was drugged, we don’t know what it is or how bad it could be.”</p><p>Murphy nodded. <em>Right, that’s what he was forgetting about</em>. “What do you need from me?”</p><p>“Just stay here. They’re gonna have questions, and you were the one who was there.”</p><p>“Oh yeah.” He pulled out the little bottle he’d grabbed from the jagoff at the bar. “Whatever it is, this is it. Snatched it from the guy before I punched him out.”</p><p>“Perfect. Sit down with Emori while I call the police. She’s a little needy.”</p><p>“No ‘m not,” Emori whined.</p><p>Murphy settled in next to her. “Sure you aren’t. Whatever you say.”</p><p>She lay against his chest. This time, thankfully, she didn’t make a move to grab at his cock. Raven moved to another room to make the call, and Murphy grabbed the tv remote. He settled on the first thing he could find. All he really needed was to distract Emori from how much she apparently wanted him to fuck her. And, if he was being honest, to distract himself too.</p><p>His distraction worked. She giggled at the tv, even though nothing on it was all that funny. The vibration of it reverberated through his body, and he loved it even more than when she was pressing her hand against his cock. Except now it was less sexual, more affection. Murphy stroked her hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She sighed and nuzzled into him.</p><p>Raven came back into the room. “The police are on their way.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Just as quickly as they had come, the police were gone. Murphy helped Raven to get Emori settled in to bed.</p><p>She grabbed at his hand when he tried to leave. “What you doing? Come fuck me, John.”</p><p>“We talked about this. You just want that because you’re all drugged up. You’ll feel different in the morning.”</p><p>Emori shook her head. “No I won’. So pretty, wan’ fuck you even when I’m sober.”</p><p>“Alright then, how about this: I’ll leave you my number. You can call me when you’re sober.”</p><p>“But I wan’ you <em>now</em>, John,” she whined. “Don’ wanna wait.”</p><p>“That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”</p><p>Emori considered for a moment. “Okay fine. You’ll fuck me tomorrow.”</p><p>He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her hairline. “Whatever you want.”</p><p>Murphy closed her bedroom door behind him. Raven was back in the living room, picking up from her studies earlier.</p><p>“What are you doing, studying on a Saturday night?”</p><p>“I have three midterms this week.” She scoffed. “Not exactly enough time to go to the bars”</p><p>“Rough.” Murphy rubbed the back of his neck. “Can I borrow some paper and a pen? I kinda promised Emori I’d give her my number.”</p><p>“And you’re actually following through with it? You know she probably won’t remember you in the morning, right?”</p><p>“Yeah, I know. But a promise is a promise. What the hell, right?” He shrugged, hoping she was buying his air of nonchalance.</p><p>Raven hummed. She tore a page out of the back of her notebook and handed it to him with a pen.</p><p>“Thanks.” He was careful with writing each digit, not wanting there to be any confusion that would lead to her to not being able to reach him. He wrote MURPHY above it, in careful capital letters, then crossed it out and wrote JOHN instead. There was no way Emori would know who he was if he went with his last name.</p><p>Murphy left the paper on the fridge with a magnet and tossed the pen back to Raven. He said goodbye and went out into the chilly night. He realized, then, that he had never gotten his jacket back from Emori. But he didn’t try to go back, didn’t even care that the air nipped at him. Murphy didn’t know if she’d call, or even if she’d remember him, but she had his jacket and his number. He prayed that would be enough to make her want to see him again.</p><p>He knew it was illogical, to want her so much. Murphy didn’t even know her, hadn’t spent any time with her when she wasn’t drugged out of her mind. But he thought back to when he first saw her on the dance floor, that intensity in her eye that said she could kill a man for getting in her way. There was something about her that Murphy knew he wouldn’t be able to get out of his head. He had to get to know her.</p><p>And if Emori called him and said she wanted him to fuck her sober? There was no way in hell he could say no to that.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you liked it! Please let me know.</p><p>Kisses!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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